Asi
by Pearl Emerald
Summary: A Spanish Jew and her family move to Casablanca to escape the Franco regime and Nazis. Dark times make strange bedfellows in this tale of friendship...THIS IS ON HIATUS AND BEING EDITED. A LOT.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The movie _Casablanca_ and any characters that appeared in that movie obviously don't belong to me. However, Maya, her family, and her misadventures do belong to me.

Capítulo 1: El bebido

_Un día regresaremos._

One day we'll return.

Maya Bat-Zvi was drunk.

It had never happened to her before. Not on the holidays, not after her grandfather's death. Granted, she was only twenty, but where the laws in Spain were lenient with regards to alcohol consumption, her _padre_ was not. So the first time she consumed a medium-sized glass of tequila in Casablanca, her eyes had become heavy and her sight blurred. All she could feel was the piano, playing a melody she couldn't quite place.

She rested her head on her folded arms, and felt the fabric tighten across her broad shoulders. The drink had forced to the forefront of her mind memories of Spain, and the war there. Franco had defeated the Republicans, but after the war had to reunite a fragmented Spain, which he had not been able to yet do.

Her father Zvi had moved to Madrid from Zuromin, a small Polish town near Warsaw, so that he could follow his cousins to America, but hadn't counted on falling in love with Rachel Zimmermann, from Warsaw proper. They had stayed in Spain and had so far been safe from Nazi interference there, but when Zvi had heard of the burning of Zuromin and the massacres of the Jews in Warsaw he grew wary of the Spanish government and realized that if the Nazis could break into France, directly to the north, nothing would stop them from entering Spain. And so he, with his wife and daughter Maya, had left Spain for Morocco, for he had heard of sympathetic Arabs and Christians there.

And so there the family lived, with Zvi, Rachel, and Maya working as booksellers in the _souk_, the Arab marketplace. For although Zvi had not been rich, he had revered the written word and thus possessed many different works in Hebrew, Spanish, and French.

Upon their departure, the family had somehow transported the library to Casablanca and set up a bookstand, where they traded and sold books. Surprisingly, the business was doing well, and over the months had been converted into a sort of library. The family had not counted on the number of people leaving Casablanca who could not find room or afford to keep their books as they left. So those people would sell their books to the Benzvis, as the family was known. As they stayed in Casablanca, the more attached to the city and more reluctant to leave the family became. The business was doing well, and so long as no-one discovered the family's religion the three were safe. Because there was enough money for the family to get by, Zvi didn't allow Maya to work on Saturday nights or Sundays, and encouraged her to explore the city on her own while her father maintained the shop.

After only a few months in the city, Maya had discovered Rick's club, a fancy establishment about a mile from her family's lodgings. While she by no means fit in with the décor or the clientele, Maya had snuck in to observe and had on more than one occasion been offered a drink, often by an older man with pity in his eyes. She had never accepted an offer for fear that her reputation would be placed in jeopardy. But on this night she had brought her own money and bought her own drink, in the dress that she and her mother had made. She had told her parents that she was going to visit a club, just to see if the gossip in the _souk_ was true. While her father was a little reluctant, Rachel encouraged Maya to enjoy her youth, noting that, at twenty, there was not much time left before she would need to start looking for a husband.

And now here she was, more drunk than the boys at the _universidad_ on a Friday night. Completely without shame and regard for her father's lectures. Maya tried again to pick up her head, and this time succeeded, her head clearing a little. She shook her head, but this only made her head hurt and her stomach lurch. She swiveled around in the chair, beckoning to the bartender. "¿_Donde está el baño?"_ she asked. The bartender cocked his head, confused. "_¿Donde está el baño?" _she asked again. The bartender shook his said and said slowly "I do not a-speak Spainish. Do you need help?" She nodded. He motioned to a person behind her, a woman wearing a black skirt and white shirt who came to stand next to Maya. "Emilia will help you, she a-speaks your language." And with that he moved towards the other end of the bar.

"Can I help you, madame?" asked Emilia in Spanish. Not the rapidfire Castilian Maya was used to, but Spanish just the same. Maya said, "I just wanted to know where the bathroom is." Emilia pointed to a room just to the left of the bar. "There it is, madame, and should you need help you may find me here." The words came together in Maya's mind and so all she understood was "there" and "madame".

She pulled herself to her feet, stumbling, and managed to walk slowly the twenty feet to the washrooms. As soon as she entered a stall she fell to her knees and voided the tequila and her dinner. _Padre, I should have listened to you_, she thought as the toilet flushed and her head pounded. She got up and looked in the mirror. _My hair…and my face…I look like I have not bathed in days…_She shook her head again, loosening the rest of her auburn hair so that it fell over her shoulders. _That's a bit better._ She opened the door, and stepped outside.

When the pounding in her head subsided, Maya started to make her way towards the doors in the back. She stopped a few times to get her bearings, but made it. As she approached the foyer someone opened the door and a rush of hot air hit Maya. Between her headache and stomachache, and the lightheadedness that had started after she had vomited, Maya couldn't breathe. She saw black and white spots, and remembered no more.

After a time, Maya came to. She was sitting outside, under an umbrella. She looked around, and suddenly remembered where she was. She tried to stand up, but her legs were shaky. "Hey there, don't you be trying to stand up yet." Maya started, but became calmer when she saw a man walking toward her with a glass of water. His skin was dark, like the Africans about whom she had read in her father's collection. He looked about thirty or so, not much older. He was taller than she, and had broad chest, shoulders, and an average waist. His face, while not exactly attractive, was creased with a frown. He pulled a chair out from the table and sat, placing the glass on the table. "Drink up," he said. "It's good for ya." Maya stared at him. "It's just water," he said. With her barely passable English, she understood him, through his strange accent, and drank the water. She knew she shouldn't accept from a stranger, but he seemed kind, and something about him reassured her and prompted her to trust him.

"Never had that much to drink, huh?" he asked suddenly.

"What?" she asked, surprised.

"Have you ever been drunk?"

"Oh. No."

He sighed. "I would be more careful next time, if I was you. There's all sorts of people here could take advantage of a pretty girl like you if you're not careful." She blushed, but didn't reply. He looked at his watch, and stood up. He walked to the road, and waved his hand. Out of nowhere came an automobile, driven by a sleepy-looking man. The black man bent over and said something to the driver, and then came back to her and guided her to the car. She got in, and he started to walk away. Maya started again. "Wait!" she said. He turned around. "What is your name?" she asked.

He looked at her for a second, but then replied, "It's Sam, ma'am."

"Thank you, Sam."

He shrugged. "It's nothing. You take care of yourself."

"I will."

He turned back around and walked back inside the club. She pulled the door closed and sagged against the leather seat. The driver turned around. "Where to, miss?"

She closed her eyes. "422 Street of Flowers. Please." The driver started the engine, and took her home.

_Sam._


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If you see anything you recognize, chances are it isn't mine

Disclaimer: If you see anything you recognize, chances are it isn't mine. The Ben-Zvi/ Benzvi family IS mine. Sorry for any historical inaccuracies…let me know and I'll fix them.

Capítulo 2: La tienda

"Maya?"

Maya opened one eye, saw her mother's worried face next to her, and promptly pulled the cotton blanket over her head.

"_M'ija_, wake up."

"No."

"Maya. It's noon already, and the books won't sell themselves. _Levantate, ahora_." Rachel pulled the blanket gently back from her daughter's face.

Maya, forced awake by the sunlight streaming in through the window next to her bed, sat up slowly and rubbed her eyes. She reached for the brush on the windowsill and automatically brushed her knotted curly hair and plaited it while her mother puttered around the room looking for a place to sit. This was not an easy feat, considering that the only furniture in the room was the small bed, a footrest that served dually as a chair, a small chest of drawers, and the piles of books, which could have functioned as chairs but for that Maya refused to let anyone's backside touch the books, out of respect. Eventually, Rachel chose the footstool, even though she was far too tall for the seat to be comfortable.

Maya, hair braided, got out of bed and pulled the small curtain away from the window. Already people were waiting in front of the shop for the Benzvis to return from their lunch break.

"Ima, why didn't you wake me sooner? How did you and Abba manage this morning?" Maya asked. She walked to the chest of drawers and opened the top drawer, selecting a light pink blouse and grey skirt.

Rachel shrugged. "Eh, there were fewer people this morning. Besides, your Abba was worried about you."

"Why?" asked Maya, fastening the buttons on the blouse.

"Well, after last week when you came back late and smelling like tequila, we let you sleep in and left you alone. But you've been very quiet and not at all like your normal self. Yusuf says he misses joking with you about fairy tales." Rachel smiled, remembering how her daughter's friend looked when she told him that Maya wasn't speaking or seeing anyone. The son of the weaver's face had held an expression akin to that of a dog falling out of a window, and hadn't come by the bookseller's for a few days.

Maya sighed. "I'm fine, Ima. I just haven't felt like talking for a few days. I'm sorry for worrying you and Abba, but I'm fine, I promise." She straightened her skirt and walked out of the room.

Behind her, Rachel's voice called out, "Oh, and there was a man asking for you this morning." Maya turned and walked right into her mother, and they both fell down.

"Sorry." Rachel waved her off.

"It's nothing."

Maya walked down the hall to the kitchen, where she found a cup of tea and some bread and cheese on a plate waiting on the table. She sat, realizing how hungry she was. She waited for Rachel to come and join her, and then started to eat. While eating, she remembered that the past week had gone by very quickly, and that she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten a good meal by her own choice. Maya had returned home from Rick's disheveled in hair and clothing, lightheaded, and stinking of alcohol. She had fallen asleep and awoken the next morning to irritated parents, who had thoroughly interrogated Maya about her activities the previous night. When they realized she had only gotten drunk and had not transgressed besides, they forgave her and she returned to her usual schedule of work and sleep, with occasional food and time with her parents. But though she worked hard and tried to behave as normal, Maya had though frequently of Sam, even though she doubted he would think of her ever, and even though she believed that his kind behavior that night at Rick's had been only customer service. Maya hadn't wasted her time fawning over him, but instead had spent much time in her room reading, which worried her parents, as the free reign over the city that had been so important to her was suddenly lower on her priorities. Maya didn't want to chance meeting him if she went out, afraid that she would say something stupid and childish. She had grown quieter, not because she missed Sam, but because she was tired after staying up late to read.

When she was finished, Maya pushed the plate away. "Ima, you said someone asked for me?" she asked.

Rachel frowned. She didn't want Maya to start mooning over someone like the women who came to the shop to buy romance novels, but she had to admit, he had been handsome, and a gentleman. "He came by the store at around ten, and asked if a girl named Maya with curly hair lived here. I asked why, and he said he had something of yours, but he needed to hand it to you himself, to make sure you got it. So I told him you were out, and that you might be back later in the day."

"So, who was he? What did he look like?" Maya's voice didn't betray her nerves. _Sam, please may it have been Sam…_

"About as tall as your Abba, but about thirty or so. Dark skin, Moorish, probably. Dark eyes, and a kind smile." Rachel said.

_Sam. It has to be,_ Maya thought, breathing a sigh of relief. Out loud she said, "Oh. He doesn't sound familiar, but I guess I'll have to talk to him later and see what he wants." Which was true. Maya didn't recall anything of hers that he could have to return to her. Pushing the chair out, she stood up and carried her plate over to the sink and rinsed it with the bucket of water next to it. Rachel came up next to her and put her arms around Maya's waist.

"Ah, now I know something is wrong. You don't even make noise while rinsing your dish." Rachel hugged her daughter. "Don't worry, I won't ask. But go, it's already half-past, and your Abba has to open up the shop again." She gently pushed Maya towards the door, realizing that even though her child was almost twenty, Maya still needed a mother.

Maya walked to the room adjoined to the house, which served as the bookshop. Zvi was already there, waiting for her.

"So, Mayaleh, we will open the shop," he said with a smile. Unlocking the door to the shop, he let Maya slip inside to open the windows as she always did. He stepped inside, and, noticing that a few books had fallen, stooped to pick them up. He felt a pain in his lower back, so he stood up again slowly. Noticing, Maya came from around the counter and silently took the books from him and put them back. She then helped him up. Smiling a little, Zvi said, "Eh, so I'm a little tired, what can I say. I can still run this shop!" Wiping his forehead with a handkerchief, he walked towards the money box and unlocked it. Maya walked over, and gave him a hug.

"Thank you for not waking me, Abba, but I'm sorry you and Ima had to do all of the work yourselves," she said.

"What, so once in a while I can't give my daughter some time to relax and sleep, after she works so hard? Don't worry about it. We weren't too busy anyway." Zvi hugged her back.

The two heard a creaking noise, and looked towards the door, where five customers had just entered. Grinning at each other, father and daughter went to work.

_Three Hours Later_

"That is 5 dirham, sir. Have a good afternoon." Maya wiped her forehead. It was still quite hot, even in the late afternoon. It was ridiculous, really, that the heat permeated the entire room, even the shade. It had been a fairly slow day, comparatively, and in between serving customers Maya had been reading Hugo's _Notre-Dame de Paris_. How boring the endless descriptions of architecture were, the numerous flying buttresses, arches, gargoyles enumerated repeatedly nearly prompted Maya to put the book back on the shelf for sale. But the story of the half-formed man, Quasimodo, and his association with both the Christian and the heathen sides of the law, had intrigued her just enough that she continued reading. But not enough that she could forget about Sam's impending visit for a time, until she looked outside and noticed the sun very slowly starting to set.

The bells over the door tinkled, but Maya didn't look up, as she would not until a customer approached, and then she would see them out of the corner of her eye first. Maya sighed, and felt for a bookmarker. The fictional plight of a man from over four centuries prior was not of interest to her when her mind was so clearly centered on the present day. She glanced at the clock on the wall. _3:30, _she thought. _Where in Hashem's name could he be? _If, she reminded herself, it was even him. It could be someone else; Moors were quite a common sight in the _souk_, but not in her family's shop. But not with a strange accent…no matter. It didn't matter. He was just some man. It wasn't important. The war would be over and everyone would leave before they could become acquaintances.

A shape shifted on Maya's left, sparking her attention, and she looked up. And up. A tall, dark man with a familiar face peered down at her, unsmiling. Flustered, Maya jumped up, upsetting the book, and made a valiant attempt to straighten her hair and skirt. "Can I help you?"

A/N: CLIFFHANGER!! HAHAHAHA!! The dirham is the Moroccan currency. At the moment the exchange rate is 8.4 dirhams per 1 US dollar. You do the math for the rate for a book in the 1940s, when the entire world is in a state of economic despair, and tell me if I'm right. You want translations, you let me know, _¿vale?_


	3. Chapter 3

Sam frowned

Disclaimer: As previously stated, you recognize it, I probably don't own it. Don't sue me. Pretty please. I do, however, own the lovely Maya and her family, as well as Yusuf, whom you'll see later.

Capítulo 3: El libro

Maya smoothed her quivering hands on her skirt, a bad habit learned from her mother. She asked again, "Can I help you?"

Sam frowned. _So much for recognition_, he thought. "I'm sorry, miss, I just thought you was someone else."

Maya grinned. "Hello, Sam." Seeing his skeptical look, she giggled. "You thought I forgot you, didn't you?" _Giggling. Just HOW old are you again?_

Sam shrugged. She was obviously the same girl he had rescued from the twin threats of Rick's displeasure at a severely drunken guest and a potential "conversation" with Captain Renault (because, after all, the captain was an equal opportunity employer when it came to women. While Rick almost never had a girl stay over, Sam had once overheard Renault mention that he might pick up one of Rick's "flames" on the rebound, drunkenness of the potential victim notwithstanding.)

He cleared his throat. "Nah, I was just coming by to check up on you, you know, make sure you hadn't gotten in trouble."

Maya raised her eyebrows. "You do this with anyone who faints in the foyer of Rick's café?"

Sam shrugged again. "No, just the ones who come in alone and can't speak English too well."

Maya blushed. "I must have been some trouble to you, keeping you away from working. I remembered your piano playing, you know. Not what, exactly, but just that it was nice."

Sam grinned. "Well, thanks, miss. That's nice of you."

"It's true. I haven't heard that music before."

"That's a change. What do you listen to, miss?"

It was Maya's turn to shrug. "I really don't anymore. I used to listen to the music in my town, but then we came here and between managing the shop and exploring I haven't had much time to find music."

The door to the shop suddenly opened, startling them.

"Oh no, I've kept you. Don't you have to get back? Was there a book you wanted to see?" Maya realized that the shop was empty, except for her and Sam. Where was her father?

Sam looked around. For such a small room, there was really quite a collection of books. "I don't get much time to read, Miss Maya, because Mr. Rick keeps me busy." He thought for a second. "But do you have any copies of the Bible in English? I remember when I was smaller my daddy used to read it to me."

Maya moved out from behind the counter, and walked towards the shelf with all of the Bibles on it. People were so anxious to sell these, but she couldn't understand why. Wouldn't it be better to keep the word of Hashem with you so that you could remember His laws and show respect to Him? She indicated the shelf to Sam. "Which would you like? We've got plenty of them."

Sam picked a dark blue book with gold stamped letters on the front: "King James Bible". "How much?"

"Hmm. I think for this one 3 dirham. Is that all right?"

"Absolutely, miss." Sam pulled some money out of his pocket and gave it to Maya. "Thanks very much. I'll let you go back to your work," he said, eyeing the book on the counter.

Maya blushed. "Thank you for coming by, Sam. It was very kind of you."

"It was no problem for me, miss. You take care of yourself." Sam walked to the door.

"Sam?"

He turned and looked at Maya.

She blushed deeper. "You're welcome back here whenever you want."

"Thanks, miss. I might take you up on that someday."

"I'd be glad if you did. But Sam?"

"Yeah, miss?"

"If I see you again, please don't call me miss?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Sure, if you want me to."

"I would."

"Then I'll remember. See you around." He walked out.

Maya grinned hugely. She felt like a bit of an unintelligible idiot, stuttering and blushing like that. But all the same she felt like jumping around, however unseemly that might be. Had she just made a friend? A grown up friend, not like Yusuf, upon whom she could always count for fun and jokes. And such a considerate friend, too.

The door creaked open. Maya jumped. Had he come back for some odd reason? The man walked in, and Maya relaxed, realizing it was her father.

"Abba, where did you go? Is everything all right?"

Zvi took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. "I went to visit with your mother for a few minutes. All is well here?" Noticing the silly grin on Maya's face, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Maya?"

Maya came back around the counter and hugged her father. "I'm fine, Abba. I'm doing much better than I have been lately."

Zvi looked around the shop. "So, it has been busy, I see."

"Not so much as usual, I think. It's too hot for people to be walking."

Zvi nodded. "So it is. How does this sound to you, Mayaleh? If nobody comes for another half hour, you can take the rest of the afternoon to yourself."

"Really? Thank you, Abba."

Zvi gently tugged one of Maya's braids. "Hard workers need to have a little break once in a while, is it not so?"

"I suppose." Maya went back behind the counter. "Why don't you have a seat, and relax for a little? It's been a busy week."

"Such a good daughter, who thinks of her old and decrepit parents."

"You and Ima aren't decrepit or old."

"That's true, but it feels like it in this heat." Zvi pulled the other stool from behind the counter and sat, looking out the window and watching the occasional person walk by outside.

Maya picked up the Hugo and went back to reading, a hint of the smile still on her face.

A/N: Things will start to get interesting soon, I promise! Exams provide much fodder for drama. I think this rambles a bit, but it can't be helped. There's a lot of shrugging. And guest appearances in the next chapter  Comments, as ever, are deeply appreciated. But please, no flames. They make me upset, and then I can't write anything for the people who actually like this.


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